Desperate Housewives
God, That's Good

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Evany: B- | Grade It Now!
Ooh-Ooh, That Smell

Meanwhile, the scene at Mike's house goes like this: He knocks on Carlos's bedroom door to offer him a flashlight, and an awkward scrambling can be heard from within. Concerned, Mike opens the door to find Carlos, sitting in bed (no shirt, once again) and looking guilty. Mike, who's come home a day early from a fishing trip, wonders (in a funny conspiratorial whisper) if Carlos has a "lady" in there? Because he heard "sex noises" coming form Carlos's bedroom earlier. Edie, who's standing right behind the door, bites her thumb nervously. And instead of just blaming the grunting and squealing on the television like a normal person, Carlos creepily tells Mike, "That was just me." James Denton does a nice skeeved-out reaction take and quickly closes the door. Edie lights into Carlos, telling him that "all this sneaking around is ridiculous," since she dated Mike for "like, five minutes." Okay, so now Edie's two-year crush on Mike, followed by her many declarations of love, has been reduced to "five minutes"? But Mike isn't the only person Carlos is worried about; he also thinks that they should keep things on the "down low" for Travers's sake. Edie, frustrated, gets up and starts dressing to leave, tsking, "I suppose we should tiptoe around like schoolchildren so our parents don't catch us Doing It? I feel like I'm twelve again!" Carlos: "Twelve!?" Ha. Edie sighs and agrees to find a low-profile spot for them to Do It, but she sternly warns him that she refuses to stay under the radar for long. They kiss, and Edie turns to leave, but he stops her and directs her out the window. Edie rolls her eyes.

And it's candlelight-only at the Scavoria. No power means no pizza, because, as Tootin' Rick points out, "some genius installed the pizza ovens with electric starters." Some genius named...Tom? Luckily, the stove is cooking with gas, so Tootie offers to make spaghetti carbonara. Lynette is thrilled, especially after he points out that they can ask whatever price they wants for the dish, because it isn't printed on the menu. He suggests $20, which Lynette thinks is "crazy." But when she quotes a price of $12 to some patrons and they don't even blink, she immediately amends that the twelve-dollar price tag refers to the "appetizer portion"; entrées are $20. And when the couple still doesn't blink, she tacks on a "two," making the cost of the carbonara a whopping $22. Hmmm. Maybe this flies with this one couple, but there's no way that the bulk of the customers -- almost all of them families who came there looking for affordable pizza -- are going to be happy about the sudden price-gouging. Way to destroy whatever small foundations of customer loyalty you've managed to build in these first few months in business, Lynette.

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Desperate Housewives




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